Scars
by Raikku of The Darkness
Summary: [One Shot] After a battle with the dragons in training, Chase Young reflects on himself and why he hates the dragon within. [Songfic, Set to Scars by Papa Roach]


This my first Xiaolin Showdown fic and one shot. Review, please. All flames will be used to burn Katnapeé to a crisp.

Disclaimer: Raikku of the Darkness doesn't own XS or any of it characters, unfortunately. Neither does she own the song, "Scars", by Papa Roach, so don't sue…she has not a nickel to her name.

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Scars

By: Raikku of the Darkness

A One-Shot

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"I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut.

My weakness is that I care to much.

My scars remind me that the past is real.

I tear my heart open just to feel…"

I had defeated them again.

I fought them and won. As always. The monks and their little dragon; they are no match for me. I don't fight them to win. I fight them to test him; my unofficial apprentice:

Omi…

"I'm drunk and I'm feeling down.

And I just wanna be Alone.

I'm pissed cuz you came around;

Why don't you just go Home?"

I may have won, but you got me good, little one. As I watched them fly away on my meal, I felt something. A tingle in my arm. I looked to see my hand covered in a crimson liquid.

Blood.

My Blood. I smirked. That was something I hadn't seen in a long time. I brought my hand to my mouth, feeling the warm blood touch my lips. My tongue running across my leather glove; blood is blood and always tastes sweet.

Even if it's mine.

_"Cuz you channeled all you your pain, _

And I can't help you fix yourself.

You're making me Insane.

All I can say is…"

One of my cats came from behind me, purring and rubbing against my legs. I ripped off its head. Can't the beast see I'm not in the mood? I sighed and teleported back to my palace in mists of the volcano. I walked up the stairs, a trail of blood dropping behind me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the cats licking it up. I chuckle at the sight.

I guess this is the closest they'll get to what they yearned for in their human lives: My blood, shed.

"I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut.

My weakness is that I care to much.

The scars remind us that the past is real,

I tear my heart open just to feel…"

I pushed the large wooden doors that led to my chambers; my footsteps echoing in the empty halls. The walls of this way were my favorite for it was decorated with the weapons of warriors defeated by my hand. The same warriors who now cringe at my feet as furry beasts who eat, sleep, and shit at my say so. These floors were marble; the most pure of stone. My palace was built in the image of purity.

Too bad that part of me is dead.

"I tried to help you once,

Against my own advice.

I saw you going down,

But you never Realized…"

I opened another set of doors, entering my personal domain. No one was allowed in this area. My golden eyes looked over the room. A large four-post bed laid to the right. A matching desk and chair sat to the north and a throne-like chair sat in front of the fire that is forever burning. Then there is _that_. The one thing I had not looked upon in centuries. The only thing that showed me what I once was and what I am.

My mirror.

"That you're drowning in the water,

So I offered you my hand.

Compassion's in my nature;

Tonight is our last stand."

So there I stood, wide awake, staring at the object, covered only by a simple sheet. Was I, Chase Young, master of evil, lord of the darkness, afraid of an inanimate object? I let out a foul laugh at the thought.

'Then why do you not remove the cloth?' the voice that has lived in my mind for the longest of time whispered in my ear.

'I have no reason to.' I mental answered.

'Yes, you do.'

'Oh?'

'Mm-hmm.' It was toying with me now.

I growled a bit. _'And what is that reason?'_

It chuckled. _'Because you need to see what you have become.'_

I sighed again. Honestly, I'm having a mental argument with myself. I'm not afraid, I told myself. Chase Young knows not the meaning of fear. So I ripped the sheet away and looked into eyes I hadn't seen in 1,500 years.

"I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut.

My weakness is that I care too much.

The scars remind us that the past is real.

I tear my heart open, just to feel."

I looked into those eyes; those cursed eyes. The long, ebony hair that pooled around a face that had never aged. I still looked the age where my life died. Chiseled looks that made women melt where they stood. Muscles that stroked jealousy in the eyes of men. And I hate every inch of it. I hate it with a passion. I shook those thoughts from my mind as I watched the blood continue to fall from my hand. I removed the gloves, looking at my battle-worn hands. Then, I removed the armor I wore, leaving only the black tunic I wore under it and my pants. I finally removed it, staring at the scars of my past.

_"I'm drunk and I'm feeling down. _

And I just wanna be Alone.

You should have never come around;

Why don't you just go Home?

Cuz you're drowning in the water

And I tried to grab your hand.

I left my heart open,

But you didn't understand…"

My eyes were pasted on a scar beneath my chest. Long and deep, itwas. I got it from warrior who swore I was less than him. They never did find all of his parts.

I remember that and laugh.

But it's still a reason I hate me…the dragon that lies inside. I remember the day I found the reason I chose this shameful life. The day I found a gray hair in my head. Then, it hit me: I was growing old and one day…would die. So I made a deal with the demon god to give me a potion to remain young forever.

In exchange for my soul.

That's why I harbor the dragon inside of me; a horrible reminder of the promise I swore. Heh, I guess the saying is true:

You are what you eat.

"I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut.

My weakness is that I care too much.

The scars remind us that the past is real…"

Why do I torment the dragons in training? Hm, is it really because I want to test them? That's what I want to believe, but I know it's not that. I would never admit the real reason…

Jealousy. 

I'm jealous of everyone of them, even that fool, Jack Spicer. They have souls; they have emotions.

They can feel.

I walked to the bed, flopping down into its soft, dark folds. I stared at the ceiling. No one knew that, in truth…

_"I'd tear my heart open, just to feel."_


End file.
